"You wear a gun, you ride a horse, and you _look_ like a man.

But there the likeness ends.

I suppose I ought to kill you--a beast like you has no business living.

Fortunately, you haven't hurt grandpa very much.

You may go now--go and tell Tom Taggart that he will have to try again!" The sound of her voice broke the spell which her eyes had woven about Calumet's senses, and he stood erect, hooking his thumbs in his cartridge belt, unaffected by her tirade, his voice insolent.
"Why, ma'am," he said, mockingly, his voice an irritating drawl, "you cert'nly are some on the talk, for sure! Your folks sorta handed you the tongue for the family when you butted into this here world, didn't they?
An' so that's your grandpa?
I come pretty near hurtin' him an' you're some het up over it?
But I reckon that if he has to set around an' listen to your palaver he'd be right glad to cash in.